In Pursuit of Draco Malfoy
by alixxblack
Summary: Draco Malfoy - that's the name Loki overheard at the H.Y.D.R.A. headquarters. As it turns out, he may have the skill set needed to turn the tides of the war for the Infinity Stones - or more specifically, for Loki's war of vengeance on Asgard. (There is potential for this story to become multi-chapter in the distant future even though it is marked complete at this time).


Disclaimer (1): All copyright retention applies for Stan Lee, Disney, and JKR. This story is not written for fame or fortune.

Disclaimer (2): However, it is written for the Bonus Round in the Houses Competition being hosted by MoonlightForgotten. All appropriate Author's Notes can be found at the end of the story.

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 **Read & Enjoy**

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A cool breeze made Draco Malfoy stir from his sleep. The bed was a massive piece of furniture that took up the majority of an otherwise empty room. Brilliant silver sheets and blankets shimmered even in the veil of night. Beautiful as it might've been, Draco didn't open his eyes.

Though he enjoyed a fairly glamorous life growing up, Draco's admiration of those privileges diminished in adulthood. Siding with the Dark Lord left the Malfoy name tarnished, so much so that being pardoned by the Ministry did little to revive it. One thing that remained unchanged, though, was Draco's need to work.

He always knew that were he to take on a career it wouldn't be out of necessity. It was only two years ago that he really began his work in alchemy. Once he found that his parents approved, Draco kept to a schedule that exposed him to people as rarely possible. When his father would wake up for work, he would just be headed to bed.

Draco woke up just in time for lunch, but he never felt compelled to dine with his parents. Most occasions, Draco would even prepare his own meals rather than join his parents. Generally after his breakfast he would travel to various markets to collect goods, or meet with merchants whom he'd sent on a hunt for items he needed. Malfoy paid well for certain conveniences. When he grew hungry for lunch, he would simply eat out and return home with his wares. He took dinner in his den and worked straight through the night until he tired enough to sleep.

"What bloody hour is it?" Draco asked, though he did not know he had company in his room. A tall figure stood in a corner holding a staff. With one hand Draco pushed his hair back from his face while the other wedged him high enough to see the plain clock hanging near the door.

But Draco never got the chance to check the time because the figure hovering in the corner whipped his staff in front of him from left to right. Draco's body fell limply off the bed. On his way down his head bounced off of the ledge of the bedframe.

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Supposedly this was the man that captured the attention of a small cell operating under H.Y.D.R.A. It had been many years since anyone had uncovered texts pertaining to the Infinity Stones. The last wizard who did nearly replicated the stones was named Nicholas Flammel. He had created something called the Philosopher's Stone, which made the owner immortal.

When he had been at the H.Y.D.R.A. headquarters, the conversation he had overheard was serious. Their language implied that his alchemy practice was merely a hobby. That is what made him terrifying. He recalled the Madame saying specifically; _"If Draco Malfoy is this close just researching on a whim, I fear what power he might wield were he to commit himself wholly to the craft."_

Loki knew what H.Y.D.R.A. would do with a man of his talents. They would recruit him to replicate the Infinity Stones and create them in mass quantities. Losing the need to participate in the intergalactic warfare would be allow for H.Y.D.R.A. to focus on what their primary objective: global domination.

Though he shared the sentiment to some degree, Loki's goal was far less expansive. His pursuit for vengeance was unyielding and it could not be satiated until the Gods of Asgard fell to their knees in defeat. They would pay for all they'd done to it. From the instant that he'd head of this man, Draco Malfoy, it was clear. This wizard was the key to his success.

Though, it had been difficult to find him. Occlumency is an old magical practice, and very few mortals are strong enough to utilize it. Loki had become downtrodden when he found that the only mortal he'd had desire to find had mastered the techniques. It took three weeks and nearly thirty people before he'd been able to get close enough to someone who revealed the location of the Malfoy Manor.

Truthfully, it would have been easier if Loki had just stolen the files, and he was well aware of that fact. However, it would have tipped H.Y.D.R.A. off that he was aware of Draco's existence and that he had tried to steal his talents. Not having been interested in making an enemy of the organization meant that Loki had to find some other way to get to the wizard first.

Just then Loki's attention diverted to the opposite side of the room. Draco Malfoy had been transported to a bed. It seemed improper to wake him to discuss plans of ending the world of the Gods without first having him rest. Now the time had come to discuss the glory that awaited Draco, if he'd only accept the offer.

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Draco knew immediately that this was not his bed. Next he felt a throbbing pain in his head, where he discovered he'd been bleeding. With his fingers poking around his wound, he called out; "Where the bloody hell am I?"

Though his vision was blurred and his hearing wasn't clear, it didn't require any special skill to have noticed that someone else was in the room. The person approached from his left with both hands raised high. The first detail that came into focus was the color green. It should've made him relax because it was the color of his Hogwarts house. All it did, instead, was remind him to have his wand ready. So his free hand slid behind his back and into his pants. Draco kept his wand on his person at all times, a habit he developed when he was sixteen years old.

"You're safe, Mr. Malfoy," a male voice cooed, "of that I can assure you."

Dignified, Draco concluded. It was not a familiar voice but the speech pattern reminded him of his Slytherin house comrades. This man's voice was smooth and deep; strangely perfect. Even though he wanted to comfort Draco he was only suspicious.

"Why did you kidnap me?" Draco blurted, trying to focus on the man. If he could _see_ him, then he could _attack_ him. Not to kill, necessarily, unless the need arose. He would incapacitate the man in order to escape; although, he wondered how the man got into his home in the first place.

The clicking of his tongue reminded Draco of his mother's chides when he was very young. The stranger spoke again; "I did not kidnap you."

"You've stolen me from my home! At the very least you've abducted me! Not to mention that you've trespassed on my property! What could you possibly want so badly?" Draco groaned, fingers tugging at his wand to expose it over the edge of his pajamas pants. Each second he kept the man talking put him closer to be being able knock him out and safely apparate.

He was very close now. Draco could identify his long black hair, sickly complexion, and angular features. Clarity was nearly upon him. But Draco refused to deny himself answers to at least some basic questions. Thankfully the green-clad stranger hadn't hesitated much in his reply; "You meddle in alchemy, Mr. Malfoy, as I understand. I think we could have a lucrative partnership, since I happen to have the need for a talented alchemist."

"And who are you, exactly?" Draco hissed, "A friend of my father's?"

Once he might've sported a smile but now the relationship was sour even on the best of terms. Respect for Lucius was present when necessary, but little more than that as Draco avoided him whenever possible. His father wouldn't let go of the ideals that tainted failed their family name. Draco no longer shared the sentiment and hated to be around him.

"I, too, despise my father," the stranger had shared; "It would seem that we have that much in common." Draco had struggled through the grogginess of sleep and injury. The clarity took his mind and made him prepared to duel when the time would arrive. Then the stranger spoke again; "Tell me, are you familiar with the story of Loki?"

"You don't actually think you're the Trickster God, do you?" Draco mocked.

Arms floated horizontally to the floor as he approached, and it seemed to Draco that he believed really was the God of Mischief. When enough time passed by his standards, the pretender offered his hand; "It may be difficult to believe but I am Loki. Many call me the Trickster God, but I have other names. Many witches and wizards know me as the God of Evil."

Draco sputtered through a laugh as he swatted away the extended hand. The fellow who claimed to be Loki did not take offense to the denial and instead kept speaking as if nothing had changed. Draco had to suppress the desire to roll his eyes.

"I understand you've lost a fair bit of dignity as the result of your father's arrogance. I have suffered much the same, Mr. Malfoy, and together we can make a story that does not know the limitations of time." With only the offer of fame, Draco could hardly consider the position a viable option. Even without the lack of proof, the idea was not appealing. Working with a God of Evil would only make the Malfoy reputation worse. Draco wanted free of those shackles.

It was just then that banging could be heard through every wall. The door even shook under the pounding that had taken place on the other side. Loki cursed under his breath before he shared his knowledge; "H.Y.D.R.A. is here and they've come for you. If you work with me I can keep you hidden from them. They want more from you than I would ever ask – and they'll see you dead if you don't agree to their terms. You have a better chance with me!" His rushed words sounded little more than a desperate please to Draco. The panic in his voice had him questioning if there was some truth to his words. Still, he'd been cornered and he promised himself he'd never be weak if someone pushed is back against the wall again. He scoffed his denial; "Never."

Loki went to grab his arm but his wand had been ready.

Unfortunately, this man _was really_ Loki. As soon as Draco called out his spell; "Stupefy," he had multiplied. Over a dozen versions of Loki dashed around the room. They jumped, skipped, danced, and laughed in total madness.

"You'll work with me, Draco Malfoy. Even if it's the last thing you do!" His replicas tried to grab at Draco's wand but were unsuccessful. To keep his wand safe he tucked it back into his pants and cast spells silently. For once he was grateful for the harsh disciplines of his parents. Magic without speaking is difficult for even the best of wizards. Draco was no fool to believe that he was the best. He was merely trained.

Eventually he was able to pinpoint the real Loki. In hindsight, the fact that it took a couple of minutes filled Draco with shame. He'd been standing in the corner laughing. This time Draco took a proper risk, "Alohomora!"

The door clicked and the pounding stopped for just a second. Draco knew that with Loki distracted that he could apparate away. He wanted to have the last word, though. So he shouted at Loki before the invaders entered the room; "You're not the boss of me. I will _never_ be like my father!"

Quickly he twisted into his apparition. The image in his mind was clear, as was his mission. Draco had never heard of hydra as anything but a magical beast. Loki spoke about it if it were an organization. An Auror would know more information, and he only trusted one to protect him: _Harry Potter._

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 **Author's Note:**

 **Ravenclaw, Bonus Round Entry**

 **Marvel Universe x Harry Potter**

 **Prompt (1): "You're not the boss of me,"**

 **Prompt (2): Waking up in the wrong bed**

 **Word Count: 1,994**


End file.
